#ugh has it been ignoring my italics when I copy/paste this WHOLE TIME?

[eddisfargo]

Not a day will go by (6/?)

This one's pretty short, so I didn't want to wait a whole day to post! Thanks again to beta @motherkatereloyshipper, who's really improved some of the rougher bits!

Tagging: @resident-of-storybrooke   @everything-person @teamhook

AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6

Summary: Captain Hook wakes up in a strange bed, next to a woman he does not remember. He finds nothing particularly unusual about this situation. But the woman seems to know him very well.

In Storybrooke, there’s only one surefire way to get back a lost memory. And it’s not going to work until he loves her.

Rating: M

Chapter 6: Wake-up call

Chapter summary:

Hook wakes up to some surprising faces.

Emma had not been inclined to share her bed with him that night. Neither was he, truth be told. It was one thing to fall asleep next to a liaison. Another thing entirely to fall asleep next to your wife . She’d offered to sleep on the couch, but he’d insisted the bed was hers far more than his. As far as he could recall, he’d slept there only once.

“Would it not be easier to simply return to the Jolly?” he suggested.

“I guess you could,” she said hesitantly. “But it’s a long way to walk back and forth, and I want to get an early start tomorrow. So if you’re going to do that, I’ll have to drive you.”

It transpired that “driving” referred to the yellow monstrosity she called “the bug” for some reason. “Is that… unpleasant?” he asked.

She smiled sheepishly. “You… were not a fan of cars at first. You’re used to them now, but I’m guessing you’d be starting from scratch.”

By this point, it had been one of the longest days of a rather long life. So he opted for the couch.

His wife seemed to feel a bit guilty for kicking him out of bed, but he’d slept in far less comfortable places. It wasn’t a bad couch. Not as comfortable as lying in the particularly soft bed upstairs, but without the potential of waking up wrapped in her arms. That would be… awkward, of course. Certainly to be avoided… definitely… absolutely to be avoided, if at all possible.

Hook slept fitfully. When footsteps entered the room, he was instantly awake.

His heart stopped. Standing not a yard away was… Baelfire.

Impossible . He rubbed his eyes, unable to breathe. No, not Baelfire. Just a boy, a little older than Bae had been. Standing in front of him, looking curious and a little amused. He did look… familiar.

As his mind returned to him, Hook finally placed the familiarity. This was the man he’d glimpsed yesterday, with Emma. But he was no man, not quite yet.

“Henry?” he hazarded.

“Morning!” the boy said, too cheerfully for this hour. He seemed unsurprised to be called Henry, so that was likely his name. No, certainly not Emma’s husband. A conversation came back to him from the previous day. I mean, his other mom . Evidently, this was not a beleaguered wife complaining about her husband. The boy seemed about the right age to be Emma’s son, if she’d been a young mother. Should he ask if the lad was her son? Or who he'd been staying with? No, this was likely something he was supposed to know.

“So uhh…” the boy said, raising an eyebrow. “Why have you been banished to the couch?”

So, he didn’t know the story. This might be a moment to fish for information. Hook shrugged nonchalantly. “The same reason as usual.”

Henry’s brow furrowed. “There’s a usual?” He considered for a moment. “Guess you usually hide it better. You’ve never still been here when I woke up.” Interesting. So there were no obvious troubles in paradise. Henry took a seat on a chair next to the couch. “Is this about you vanishing yesterday? Mom was trying to hide it, but I think she was pretty freaked.”

Mom. So his surmise had been correct. He allowed himself a moment of triumph. He’d made a successful prediction. Today was already going better than yesterday.

“Tangentially related,” Hook said carefully. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure.” There was a moment of silence. Taking a bit of a risk, he tried asking a question. “How old are you these days, Henry?” he asked, trying to sound as if it was a detail that had momentarily slipped his mind.

Henry considered him for a moment, and then grinned, “old enough to get a car for krissmus?” he suggested.

A car. This was information he’d come across. The machine you drive, of which he himself had evidently been not a fan at first . A good start. “And how old must one be to get a car for krissmus?”

“Fourteen,” Henry said confidently. “So uhh… I’m guessing you know what mom’s getting me, right?”

The boy was an excellent source of information, and seemed none the wiser to Hook’s careful interrogation. It turned out the situation was much easier to navigate when one had context . But now the cunning lad seemed to be fishing himself.

Hook grinned. “I haven’t the faintest idea,” he said honestly. Henry shrugged good-naturedly, his lack of surprise indicating that this was likely the correct response.

There was a businesslike knock on the door.

Henry stood. “Sounds like mom’s back already,” he said, sounding nonplussed.

Hook was a bit surprised, too. Emma must’ve been awfully stealthy to slip out the door without waking him. He stood too, following the lad toward the door. He had a few questions for her that he now had hope might receive a straight answer.

Henry opened it. “Miss me already?” he said, and Hook could hear the grin in his voice. But the woman standing on the threshold was not Emma. She wore a style of dress he hadn’t seen on a woman thus far—trousers that matched her jacket. It had an efficient style that was not unflattering. His eyes traveled appreciatively upward, noting short, severely cut dark hair. When he finally reached her face, which was currently scowling in his direction, he froze. Her .